Arc IV: Part IV

Carefully, Sirius inserted the key into the stone and took a step back, his gaze fixed on the surface with intense focus. For a fleeting moment, the stone's unyielding facade remained unchanged, but soon the key vanished into the hard surface. In its place, intricate golden lines emerged, outlining a wide circle that spanned the stone's expanse. Running his fingers over the newly formed lines, Sirius felt the cool smoothness of the surface against his skin. He then pressed his palm against it, sinking his hand up to the wrist. A shiver ran through him as the chill air on the other side brushed his fingertips, signaling the path forward.

Without a second thought, he turned to Red and Mikhail, his eyes alight with excitement. "Are you coming or what?" he quipped, striding confidently through the newly formed gateway and arriving at the summit of one of the reserve's loftiest peaks, Sirius felt exhilaration wash over him as he took in the stunning vista before him. Despite occasional clouds passing by and momentarily obscuring his view, the landscape was breathtaking in its scope. To the east, a rugged mountain range stretched as far as his eyes could see, its peaks shrouded in mist and cloaked in a soft grey hue. These lofty forms were covered in dense, emerald-green forests that blanketed the slopes. Countless streams and rivers flowed from their heights, carving deep valleys and gorge into the rocky terrain below. To the west, Sirius saw a different kind of terrain—a vast expanse of rolling hills and grassy plains that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. The occasional copse of trees dotted the landscape, and small herds of animals could be seen grazing peacefully. As he turned his gaze to the north, the mountains tapered off into gentler foothills, beyond which the land flattened out into a wide plain. Homesteads dotted the fields in this region, with occasional barns and farmhouses visible in the distance. Finally, to the south, a bustling village emerged, surrounded by fields of crops and orchards. At the center of the town, a grand edifice loomed above the other buildings, its domes, and towers gleaming in the sunlight.

Red suddenly appeared next to Sirius, gazing out into the distance. "That must be the village Ludvik told us about, right?" he asked.

Sirius nodded, his eyes fixed on the distant settlement. "It is. Let's hurry. If we move quickly, we can get there before sunset." Just then, Mikhail joined them, ready to continue the journey.

Together, they made their way down the mountain and set out toward the village. Unlike the treacherous terrain they had faced earlier, the day's walk was relatively easy. A few hours later, they found themselves walking with the sun at their backs instead of beating down on their necks. After crossing a picturesque stone bridge, they paused to catch their breath and take a well-earned break. Nearby, a small herd of sheep grazed, their gentle bleating filling the air. Mikhail stretched his legs and let out a contented sigh.

"I'm so glad we made it this far without any trouble!" he exclaimed.

Red nodded in agreement but couldn't help voicing a concern. "Yeah, it's been pretty easy going so far. Don't you guys find it a little strange that we haven't encountered any dragons or other dangers?"

Sirius chuckled, feeling grateful for the respite. "Let's not jinx it, Red. We still have a way to go."

As they rested, Sirius couldn't help but smile as he watched a line of gnomes trudging along, their bundles of goods held aloft. Laying back on the grass, he turned to his companions and asked, "Do you know what I find strange?"

Red eyed him warily. "What is it?"

"I think it's strange how you all seem to love problems until they actually happen—and then I'm left dealing with them alone," Sirius said with a wry grin.

"Hey, that's not fair," Mikhail protested, though there was a hint of guilt in his tone.

Red just grunted. "Yeah, well, we can't all be heroes."

As they bantered back and forth, their lighthearted moment was abruptly shattered. The sky above them darkened as if night had suddenly fallen, and an ominous growl echoed through the air. Nervous glances were exchanged among the group.

"What the hell was that?" Red demanded, his hand straying towards his wand. "You don't think it was a…"

Sirius stood up, his expression grim. "I don't know, but we need to be ready for anything. Stay alert."

Without warning, a colossal green Romanian Longhorn swooped down from the sky, its razor-sharp teeth closing around a hapless sheep. The group watched in horror as the dragon ascended once more, disappearing into the clouds.

"What the fuck just happened?" Red's voice broke the stunned silence.

Sirius sprang into action, quickly gathering his belongings. "We need to move, now! Who knows if there is another one hovering above us."

Huddled together behind some nearby rocks, the gnomes watched in terror as the dragon swooped down and snatched up another helpless sheep. They held their breath as it rose high into the air, its wings beating powerfully before it vanished into the distance. When they finally saw that the coast was clear, the gnomes scrambled out from their hiding spot and raced to catch up with the rest of the group.

Despite the relief of being out of the dragon's sight, Sirius still felt a creeping sense of unease as they continued their journey. The appearance of the dragon served as a stark reminder that danger lurked around every corner.

The group followed a winding path through the dense forest, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of danger. They walked in silence, the only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot.

As they neared the village, the trees began to thin out, and the sounds of civilization could be heard in the distance. Finally, they reached the boundary of the village, marked by a magical ward that brushed against their faces as they passed through it. With a collective sigh of relief, they continued on their way toward the safety and comfort of the village.

The night had enveloped the village with its dark veil, and Sirius, Red, and Mikhail found themselves winding through the labyrinthine streets. The inhabitants of the town, weary from a long day's labor, hastily lit the lamps in their homes, illuminating the alleys with a warm glow. The women's voices, calling out in various tongues to their offspring, echoed off the buildings, blending with the hurried steps of the children who bid each other farewell before hurrying back to their abodes.

Eager to finally reach their destination, the three companions pressed on, guided by the flickering lights of the streetlamps, until they reached the heart of the town. There, a magnificent fountain, hewn from solid rock, dominated the central square. A ferocious dragon, its jaws agape, spewed forth water that tumbled down into the basin below, filling the night air with the sound of rushing water.

As they passed the imposing structure, which they surmised was the town hall, they could not help but feel a sense of awe at the grandeur of the place.

"If the warden has an office, this is most likely where we'll find it," Sirius remarked, his eyes fixed on the imposing structure before them.

Mikhail chimed in, "Oh, I almost forgot, the key reappeared after I crossed," as he handed over the small silver key that they had used to access the reserve.

"Thanks," Sirius replied, slipping the key into his back pocket before asking, "Should we just knock?" as he gestured towards the gate.

Red shook his head, "No, that would be rude. I think it would be better if we camp here on the steps and wait for someone to find us," chuckling along with Mikhail.

Sirius shook his head at their suggestion and climbed the stairs with determination. He confidently knocked on the gate, but after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, he let out a sigh and scanned the surrounding houses. "Stay here in case someone shows up," he instructed, dropping his backpack on the higher step. "I'll go knock on a door and ask around."


As Sirius made his way through the town's square, a shiver ran down his spine as the temperature suddenly dropped. He berated himself for not bringing his jacket, feeling the cold air nip at his skin. Seeking warmth, he stopped on a quiet sidewalk and rubbed his arms, eyeing a nearby house. However, as he took a step towards it, he paused, a frown forming on his face. A strong, unpleasant smell wafted toward him, causing him to wrinkle his nose in disgust. Before he could react, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist with lightning speed, a wand pressing against his temple.

"Одно неверное движение, и я сломаю тебе руку", a woman voice said.

"Could you please hurt me in English?" Sirius asked, sounding confused.

"Stay still, or I'll break your arm," she repeated.

"Break my arm? Just for walking down the street?" Sirius chuckled. However, his laughter swiftly transformed into a grunt of pain as the woman twisted his wrist and delivered a forceful kick to his knee, causing him to collapse onto the ground.

"Identify yourself! How did you manage to bypass the wards?" the woman demanded, intensifying the pressure on his arm.

"I'm Sirius Black! You sent us an invitation along with the key to bypass the wards," Sirius managed to utter through clenched teeth. "They're in my back pocket," he added, wincing in pain.

Sirius felt a slender hand delve into his back pocket and retrieve the folded letter. The woman released her grip, allowing him to catch his breath. He remained on his knees, gazing at the woman with curiosity as she silently perused the letter.

After burning it, she cast a stern gaze upon Sirius and gestured for him to rise. "You're late! We stopped expecting you to arrive two days ago. Follow me!" she ordered, turning her back and striding towards the hall.

"Apologies for the delay. We weren't informed of a specific arrival date, so we took our time," Sirius said, swiftly getting to his feet and hastening to join her.

The woman replied sarcastically, "Of course, why would you hurry? Aren't we at your service, without any other obligations?"

"That's not what I meant! I apologize once again... May I know your name?" Sirius inquired, attempting to make amends.

Ignoring him, she quickened her pace, and Sirius trailed behind her as they traversed the square towards the building where Mikhail and Red had engaged in a game of rock-paper-scissors on the highest step while awaiting Sirius's return. As they passed the Dragon Fountain, the improved lighting granted Sirius a better view of the woman, and he frowned at her unconventional attire. She was clad in a black leather suit, likely crafted from dragon leather, reminiscent of the ensembles worn by muggle motorbike racers. Her wand was holstered on her thigh.

Abruptly, she halted on the lowest step and curtly inquired, "Are those morons your servants?"

"Who are you calling morons?" Mikhail retorted, brandishing his wand before descending the steps.

Sirius glared at her and positioned himself between them. He instructed Mikhail to put away his wand before turning to the woman and stating, "This is childish! I've already explained our purpose for being here and offered my apologies. There's no need to be rude to us. If the governor isn't here, kindly direct us to an inn or a secure place to camp, and we will return in the morning."

As they stood there, the woman raised an eyebrow at them, treating them like mere peasants in her presence. Her lips moved to reply but was interrupted by the sound of an apparition. Their attention shifted to the right, where a tall, wide-shouldered man with long gray hair, dressed in a uniform similar to the woman's, had suddenly appeared. He stopped abruptly, looking confused as they held their wand up, while Sirius positioned himself between Mikhail and the blonde woman.

The newcomer sighed, then smiled and approached them, extending a hand to Sirius. Up close, the man's face bore scattered tiny scars, evidence of a hard life. He gently pushed the woman aside and warmly greeted them, saying, "Good evening, gentlemen, and welcome among us! My name is Dragan Volkov, and I oversee the reserve. It is a pleasure to finally meet you!"

"The pleasure is ours, sir," Sirius replied, shaking Dragan's hand. "I am Sirius Black, and these are Mikhail Sergeevich and Red Russel."

"Please call me Dragan! Let's not linger outside. We'll be better off in my office," Dragan suggested, opening the gates of the building with a subtle hand wave. Then, he turned to the woman and asked kindly, "Would you care to join us?"

In response, the woman dismissively waved her hand and walked away, her long hair dancing behind her. "No," she replied. "I have better things to do."

"I'm warning you!" Dragan shouted after her. "You'd better head straight back home. The curfew applies to you as well!" However, the woman simply ignored him and vanished, along with her arrogance and repulsive behavior.

Dragan let out a deep sigh, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and fatigue, as he wearily extended a hand, beckoning the group to follow him inside the building. Sirius nodded to the others, his gaze fixed on Dragan, and they all shuffled forward, trailing behind his imposing figure.

The building's harsh exterior had initially seemed daunting, almost foreboding. However, as they crossed the threshold, the group was taken aback by the luxurious interior that unfolded before them. The contrast was striking—the opulence within stood in stark contrast to the ruggedness outside. It felt as if they had entered an entirely different world. The walls, wide stairs, and even the furniture were crafted from African blackwood, a rare and exotic material renowned for its lustrous dark hues and strength. Intricate carvings and elaborate designs adorned every surface, speaking of the wealth and power of the owner.

As the group ventured further into the building, they were greeted by a gallery of paintings, each one showcasing dragons and famous Dragonologists. The colors were vibrant, the brushstrokes so lifelike that the creatures appeared to breathe and move. Mesmerized, the group found themselves captivated by the refinement that surrounded them, contrasting with the cold and gloomy place they have imagined encountering. Then there were the rugs—magnificent, hand-woven Iranian masterpieces that stretched across the floor, each one a work of art in its own right.

Dragan observed them with a faint smile, and walked confidently forward, his boots clicking against the polished blackwood. The group followed suit, their footsteps blending with the symphony of opulence that resonated within the building—an extravagant display of art. Dragan turned to the group, gesturing for them to approach. "This way, please," he commanded in a deep, resonant voice. "My office is on the top floor."

As they ascended the stairs, Sirius couldn't contain his surprise. "I hope you won't be offended, but I expected the place to be less...cozy."

Dragan chuckled in response. "Believe it or not, we acquired this place in its current state. It belonged to a wealthy Muggle family until the estate and its surroundings became too expensive to maintain. A wizarding family seized the opportunity to purchase it and made a substantial profit by selling it to the Romanian Ministry when the International Confederation of Wizards finally deemed a dragon reserve necessary."

"Substantial?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"We're still paying off the loan four decades later," Dragan replied with a wry smile. "Anyway, the village grew considerably during Grindelwald's war, as wizarding families sought refuge behind our protective wards. Once Grindelwald was defeated, they left, selling their houses to Dragonologists from around the world. During the day, it's quite lively and bustling here, but at this hour, everyone is at home."

Red interjected, "That's what we noticed, even though it's not even 8 pm yet."

"The job requires early wake-up times, so the shops and other businesses have had to adapt," Dragan explained calmly.

Sirius pressed on, "Oh...I thought it was because of the curfew you mentioned earlier."

Dragan appeared uncomfortable with Sirius' insistence but prepared to reply nonetheless. However, Red quickly interjected, "We don't want to bother you. If you need rest, we can come back tomorrow. You look like you've had a long day."

"I had to come to my office anyway," Dragan replied. "Besides, we might not see each other for the next two days."

Dragan led the way down the hallway as they reached the top floor before opening a door and stepping aside, allowing them to enter first. Sirius stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the space.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked Dragan.

"I'll remain at the reserve but will be occupied," Dragan replied. "We're expecting a Romanian longhorn female to lay her eggs very soon. The species is quite large, and our experienced staff is preoccupied with another matter, so I'll be supervising the procedure myself."

The room was spacious, and adorned with various dragon-related artifacts. Shelves lined the walls, showcasing an impressive collection of books, journals, and manuscripts, some dating back centuries. The air carried the scent of old parchment and leather-bound tomes, filling visitors with awe and admiration. Sirius settled into one of the plush armchairs arranged before Dragan's desk. The room exuded grandeur, from the intricately carved wooden bookshelves to the priceless dragon-themed artifacts that adorned every surface. Dragan himself emanated authority with his piercing gaze and imposing stature, making his guests like mere mortals in his presence.

As Dragan took his seat behind the desk, he let out a contented sigh and gestured for a small metallic dragon replica to come to life. The small dragon gracefully soared into the air, flapping its wings as it twirled above them, pouring a glittering black liquid into their glasses before perching back on Dragan's chair backrest.

Dragan beamed as he turned to the trio seated before him, offering them a charming smile. "Understand that I gave up drinking years ago, so I hope soda will suffice," he told the group.

"Soda is perfect, thank you," Sirius replied, taking a sip from his glass. He paused, furrowing his eyebrows as he briefly tasted it. "This isn't Coke, is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Dragan chuckled, clearly amused. "It's a local imitation... made from bread," he explained.

Sirius took another sip before speaking. "It's... unique," he said, his tone somewhat hesitant.

Red interjected with a grin, "Well, at least it must be healthier than Coke. Did you guys know it got cocaine in it?" His words drew a frown from Mikhail.

"What are you talking about?" Mikhail asked, his confusion evident.

Red began to explain, launching into a detailed history of the popular drink. "It was first invented by a pharmacist from Atlanta who was addicted to painkillers. He invented Coca-Cola by mixing alcohol, cocaine, and some other herbs. Then, when Atlanta banned alcohol, he changed the formula but kept the cocaine in it. Later, when cocaine was made illegal, they replaced it with caffeine... I mean, that's what they say because nobody can..."

Sirius interrupted him sharply, nodding discreetly at Dragan. "Are you done?" he asked, his tone firm.

Taking the hint, Red said, "Sorry," and took a sip of his drink to hide his embarrassment. Dragan, looking somewhat confused, spoke up. "Ludvik said something about a long walk?"

"Yes," Sirius replied. "We chose to walk rather than apparition or flying... to enjoy the country. And it was beautiful."

"Glad you liked it," Dragan said. "So, how about we get down to business?"

Mikhail, who had remained silent since they arrived, finally spoke up. "Um... Sirius and I are only travel companions. You're only in business with Red..." he said, biting his lip as Red stepped on his foot under the desk.

"Don't listen to him. He chooses poorly the moment to crack jokes he only understands," Red said, disregarding Sirius and Mikhail's surprised gaze at him. "Yes, in your last letter, you agreed to provide us with Dragon Heartstrings if the three of us agreed to work an entire month here. Correct?"

"Correct," Dragan confirmed, nodding. "Dragon Heartstring, especially the quality you require, is valued higher than your offer, but Ludvik being an old friend and our need for manpower in this season makes it a fair deal."

"Perfect then! What would you like us to do for you?" Red asked, his enthusiasm evident.

"Yeah... what can we do?" Sirius asked, looking darkly at Red.

Dragan rubbed his hands together, a pleased expression on his face. "Ludvik told me plenty about you," he said. "So, I did my best to assign you tasks you'll be helpful at and in which you'll also enjoy spending your days doing. Mikhail, you'll be here at the library. Our librarian will soon depart to Japan for field research. Report here tomorrow at 10 am, and he'll walk you through your duties during his absence. As for you, Red, Ludvik mentioned you expertized in charms after Ilvermorny, so you'll join the wards' maintenance team. You'll find their headquarters on the first floor of this same building."

"Great! I'm looking forward to meeting the team and starting," Red said with a grin.

"I'm fine with working in the library. I might even like it," Mikhail whispered.

"Great," Dragan said, smiling. "It leaves us to you, Sirius..."

"Before we could go any further, there is something I'd like to say," Sirius said, clearing his throat.

"What is it?" Dragan inquired.

Sirius finished his drink and then stated, "Upon receiving the news of Peter's arrest and trial, then capturing Greyback...I had imagined that my first encounter with the magical world would be widely different from nearly having my arm broken."

"I beg your pardon...Has something happened that I should be aware of?" Dragan asked, looking perplexed.

"Yes... Your employee assaulted me without any provocation. Despite identifying myself and maintaining a courteous demeanor, she continued to be rude and even insulted my friends. Is this the kind of treatment we should expect from your staff during our stay? Because my patience and politeness have their limits...And I won't accept any disrespect," Sirius explained.

"Of course not!" Dragan replied, visibly disconcerted. "Um... This is a serious offense, and I assure you that it won't go unpunished. Meanwhile, please accept my apologies."

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright... Thank you. So, with that said, unless Red has something else to discuss with Dragan, I suggest we go find an inn for a meal," Sirius said.

"Oh! Your accommodation fees and meals are covered by your contract. Three private rooms have been made available for you at the village inn. I chose the ones with the best views!" Dragan exclaimed, smiling as he retrieved three keys from his desk drawer and placed them in front of them.

"Is that so?" Red asked, surprised. "Thank you!"

"Don't mention it!" Dragan said, standing up. "Allow me to escort you there and introduce you to the innkeeper... This village can be quite a maze in the dark if you're unfamiliar with the surroundings."


At eight o'clock in the morning, Kingsley emerged on a hill overlooking the spot where the victim's body had been found. The countryside exuded a slightly macabre atmosphere, as is often the case when its isolation is no longer concealed by the beauty of its landscapes. To the west, he gazed upon the vertical rivers twisting and turning, exposing the dark flanks of the mountains with their silver torrents. In the distance, the high peaks loomed in the misty light of the stormy morning, heralding the arrival of September.

From atop the hill, Kingsley had a clear view of the Muggle firefighters packing up their gear before departing the area, taking a country road that vanished into the trees. Kingsley's eyes scrutinized the landscape for a prolonged moment, but he had lost sight of the river. Shortly after, he realized that the stream had flowed into the hollow of the valley and disappeared just behind the wall of rocks, where he couldn't see it due to some massive stones. Suddenly, he spotted the fluorescent yellow cordon, specific to the police, emanating from one of the rocky crevices. This detail riled him.

Kingsley descended the rocky cleft where the curves of a narrow path were beginning to take shape, and eventually, he had to halt and pass under the plastic cordon to reach the river, where the water's flow was obstructed by a natural dam. The stream, which Kingsley anticipated would be churning with foam, was instead a small, crystal-clear, and tranquil lake. To the right, it recommenced and was likely passing through the town, which appeared drab in the valley bed.

Kingsley halted abruptly, and his hand instinctively sought his wand. To his left, a man was already present, crouched over the water. Kingsley studied the man's back and cleared his throat, startling the man, who spun around and beamed upon seeing him.

"What are you doing here?" Kingsley abruptly asked the stranger, who didn't lose his smile and stood up without answering, dusting off his hands. He was a young man with a friendly face and sleek black hair, wearing a suede jacket and jeans. He retorted in a clear voice, "And you?" Although Kingsley suspected him of imitating him.

"I'm Chief Inspector Kingsley Schaklebolt. Didn't you see the signs?" Kingsley said, gesturing at the police lines. "I hope you have good reasons for crossing the line; otherwise..." he trailed off.

"Detective Ravi Patil, Merseyside police. I've been expecting you, Chief Inspector," the man replied, showing his badge before tucking it back in his jacket. "I've been told you were on your way."

Kingsley relaxed and nodded. "Are you alone?" he asked, looking around.

"Everyone has already gone; the victim was found a little farther. The perimeter is secure, and the forensic team packed up thirty minutes ago," Detective Patil replied.

"Already?" Kingsley asked, turning abruptly to the other man, frowning.

Patil shrugged. "Well... The body was found yesterday afternoon, and they have worked all night," he replied.

Kingsley nodded. "Right... Sorry, it's been a long drive from London," he said, looking at the small red stone bridge at the entrance of the far town. "Tell me what you know so far," Kingsley said.

Detective Patil looked up at the rock wall. "The body was encased up there."

"Up there?" Kingsley asked with a frown, looking at the wall of aggressive landforms casting harsh shadows on them.

"Yes, about a hundred feet up... The killer pushed the body into one of the cracks in the wall in a strange posture on it," Patil replied.

"What posture?" Kingsley asked.

The Detective Patil flexed his legs, pulled his knees up, and crossed his arms against his chest. "Like a baby in the womb... We had to wait for the firefighters to bring the body down... It was very tricky, trying to keep it intact, not dropping anything in the river from up there, searching the area for any clue the killer would have left behind... That's why it took all night!"

"I see... I was told about wounds, burns..." resumed Kingsley.

"I have not gotten the chance to properly inspect the body yet! But It seemed that there are many traces of torture," Patil said, nodding.

"Did the victim die as a result of torture?" Kingsley asked.

"I don't know. There are also deep cuts in the throat and strangulation marks," Patil said.

Kingsley turned back to the small lake and stared silently at his reflection, his shaved head and black jacket clearly reflecting on the water.

Kingsley pointed at the water. "How about here? In the water, did you find anything?" Kingsley asked.

"No," Patil said, disappointed. "I've been looking for an hour, in case they would have missed something in the dark... But there's nothing. Of course, I strongly doubt the victim was killed around here. I guess the killer only left the body up there."

"You climbed up to the rift?" Kingsley asked, curiously.

Patil chuckled and said, "Yes, they put all the caving gear on me, and I climbed up there. There was nothing to report. My guess is that the killer probably climbed to the top of the wall from the other side and lowered the body down on a rope." He pointed at the rocks, then traced a vertical line with his finger. "Then, the killer descended and placed the victim up there. Although, it must have taken a lot of effort to put the victim in such a position. For the time being, it's beyond comprehension!"

Kingsley looked back at the wall of rock, bristling with edges and pitted with roughness. He couldn't clearly assess the distances, but it seemed to him that the niche where the body had been discovered was halfway up the wall, as high off the ground as the top of the cliff. Kingsley sighed, realizing that this case wouldn't be one he could wrap up quickly.

"Patil, I would like to see the body as soon as possible. Where is it?" Kingsley turned to face him.

"It's in the hospital morgue. I was just about to head there after speaking with you," Patil replied.

"Alright, let's go." Kingsley walked back on the path he had arrived from, followed by Patil. After a brief walk, they arrived at the road where Patil's car was parked, and Kingsley stopped.

"Can you tell me exactly where the hospital is?" Kingsley asked.

Patil looked surprised by the question. "It's near the motorway exit. You must have driven by it on your way here," he replied, looking around curiously. "How did you get here, anyway? Where did you park your car?"

"I took a night bus that dropped me off near your town's police station. A patrol car drove me here," Kingsley explained.

Patil nodded. "Didn't they offer to walk you through the bushes, or at least wait until you returned?" he asked.

"No, I didn't ask," Kingsley replied.

"How rude of them. Can I see your badge, please?" Patil asked, smiling as he reached into his jacket.

Kingsley shrugged and handed over his badge, which Scrimgeour had given him earlier. Patil examined it and did a peculiar trick with his finger on the plaque before handing it back to Kingsley.

"Alright, no offense. You can never be too careful in our line of work," Patil said, nodding at his car. "Get in! I'll drive you there."

Kingsley put his badge back in his jacket pocket and glanced at the trees one last time before following Patil and sitting in the passenger seat. Patil started the engine and quickly took the national road before turning on the radio.

"Is this your first time outside London?" Patil asked, breaking the silence after a moment.

"No, I've spent some time in Scotland," Kingsley replied.

"Ah, military?" Patil guessed.

Kingsley chuckled. "Boarding school," he corrected.

"Nice. So, how is it working in London?" Patil asked.

"It never stops," Kingsley replied with a sigh.

Kingsley gestured towards the beagle toy on the dashboard, happily bouncing its head back and forth. "That's not something I often see in police cars," he said.

Patil smiled and took out a picture from his jacket before handing it to Kingsley. "My daughters found it cute, so they decided to put it there. It helps distract them on long drives. Padma is on the right, and Parvati is on the left… They just turned five last April," he said.

Kingsley looked at the twins in the picture. "Beautiful girls… They must have taken after their mother," he said, handing the picture back to Patil.

Patil's eyes widened, and he burst out laughing. "That's a horrible thing to say to a father! Even if I agree… How about you? Are you married; do you have any kids?" he asked.

"Married to the job," Kingsley replied.

Patil glanced at him, embarrassed. "I understand," he said.


After finding a parking spot near the entrance, Patil turned off the car engine and stepped out of the vehicle. Kingsley followed suit, taking a deep breath as he stepped into the hospital's lobby. The scent of disinfectant and antiseptic hit him, causing him to wrinkle his nose.

As they made their way towards the front desk, they passed by several people - some were sitting on the chairs, waiting for their turn to see the doctor, while others were walking hurriedly. When they finally reached the front desk, a nurse behind the counter was on the phone, speaking in a hushed tone. Upon seeing Patil and Kingsley approach, she quickly hung up the phone and stood up, greeting them with a friendly smile.

"Good morning. I am Detective Patil, and this is Chief Inspector Schaklebolt. We would like to access the morgue and have a chat with the coroner regarding the body that was found yesterday afternoon, please," Patil said politely.

The nurse looked at them simultaneously, embarrassed, before giving them a half-smile and replying, "Sure... One moment, please, gentlemen." The nurse disappeared behind a door, and they heard her whisper hastily, "There is a paki and a black guy outside… They say they're police and ask to see the body the real police brought in the night."

Kingsley leaned against the desk, sighing, while Patil paced around, whistling until two tall, sturdy men wearing white scrubs came out of a double door at the end of the hallway and walked straight towards them. One of them asked, "Is there anything we can help you with?"

As Patil was about to reply, Kingsley stepped forward, pulled out his badge, and held it up to the two men. "Take us to the morgue and tell the doctor we want to speak with him."

The men looked at the badge and glanced at each other before a loud voice came out of the end of the hallway, "Make way, please!" The two men nodded and stepped aside to let Kingsley and Patil pass. Walking by the desk, Kingsley glared at the nurse, who did her best to focus her gaze on a blank sheet on the desk.

At the end of the dimly lit hallway, a man wearing a lab coat waited for them. The man was shorter than Kingsley, with short hair, in his thirties. Once they reached him, he held out a hand and said, "I expected you sooner... However, I'm Dr. Galvin, the forensic pathologist."

"Good morning. Let's take this to the morgue, please. We're on a schedule," Kingsley curtly said, keeping his hand in his pocket.

Dr. Galvin nodded. "Of course... This way, please," he said, pushing open the double doors. Patil dragged his feet to let Dr. Galvin take a few steps ahead, then quickly whispered to Kingsley, "Don't get upset by this... This is a small remote town."

"Have you heard me complain?" Kingsley asked before following Dr. Galvin.

Navigating through the dimly-lit and labyrinthine hospital's basement, Kingsley and Patil followed Dr. Gavin's lead, their footsteps echoing through the narrow hallways adorned with grey pipes running along the ceiling. The air was humid, and the musty smell of old concrete and antiseptic cleaner clung to their nostrils. Shortly later, they climbed up the last staircase and turned right, finally reaching the morgue. The room was small, but it had a somber atmosphere that demanded respect. A row of fluorescent lights flickered on overhead, illuminating the place with a stark and artificial glow. The walls were painted in a pale shade of green, and the floor was made of cold, grey tiles.

As they stepped inside, a sudden chill filled the air, causing Kingsley and Patil to shiver involuntarily. The temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees, and they could see their breath fogging up in front of them. Kingsley's sharp eyes scanned the room, taking note of the long cabinets lining the walls, which were filled with various medical instruments and autopsy tools. A sink was tucked in one corner, and on the opposite side of the room, there was a large metal shelf filled with body bags. In the center of the room, a metallic table stood, where the victim's body lay.

Dr. Gavin strode towards the table, beckoning them to come closer with a subtle wave of his finger. Kingsley and Patil approached hesitantly, their hearts heavy with a mix of dread and curiosity. The victim's face was covered with a white sheet, and the only visible part of their body was a hand, limp and lifeless, hanging over the edge of the table. Dr. Gavin pulled back the sheet, revealing the victim's face, and the sight made Patil flinch in horror.

Kingsley gazed upon the victim's visage and inquired, "Has the victim been identified?"

Dr. Galvin polished his glasses before responding, "The victim's name is Kian J Andrews. He was reported missing three days ago."

Kian Andrews had deep, obsidian wounds etched onto his abdomen and chest, alongside cuts with purplish lips, iridescent burns, and sooty clouds. Furthermore, more superficial lacerations extended across his arms and wrists, as if he had been restrained with wire. Kingsley circumnavigated the table to obtain a better view of the victim's back and stumbled upon a lengthy and slender gash.

"What is this?" Kingsley inquired of the forensic specialist.

Dr. Galvin nodded firmly and responded, "His entire spinal cord has been removed...from C1 to the coccyx."

Patil inquired with a grimace, "Were any of his organs harvested?"

Dr. Galvin disclosed, "All of them. He has been emptied and also castrated. The perpetrator also yanked out his teeth."

Patil questioned, "Do you have any insight into the method employed by the perpetrator?"

Dr. Galvin elucidated, "The wound on the body implies that the victim underwent a torture session. But the incision on his back and the extraction of organs were executed with surgical precision. Thus, the perpetrator knew precisely what they were doing and where to locate each thing...He enjoyed doing it"

Kingsley probed, "What leads you to believe that the torture was purely for pleasure?"

Dr. Galvin clarified, "The wounds indicate torture when we can discern a 'controlled' pattern. The victim must be able to remain lucid and respond to inquiries. However, that is not the case here. The person responsible displayed no restraint whatsoever...Even though he cauterized the wounds to not hasten his death."

Patil speculated, "Are you implying that the killer is a medical practitioner?"

Dr. Galvin replied, "Or anyone who has undergone extensive training in this field...The incision lines demonstrate that the perpetrator's hand remained steady."

Kingsley then questioned, "Is there anything else we should be aware of?"

Dr. Galvin hesitated before responding, "I knew him since childhood...He was a kind-hearted lad. He did not deserve this."


Kingsley and Patil drove to the small police station in town. An officer escorted them to a hastily arranged office with two desks for the investigation. Patil removed his vest and placed it on a chair before sighing and sitting down, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm going to call someone from the city to examine the body again," Patil said.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked.

"The relationship between the victim and the coroner bothers me. He may have been distracted by his feelings," Patil replied.

Kingsley nodded in agreement. "I understand. Leave it to me. I have to call the Yard anyway."

"Sure, take your time. I need some coffee," Patil said, exiting the office.

Kingsley waited for Patil to leave and then locked the door with his wand. He picked up the phone and dialed the number '121181518.' A female voice answered promptly.

"Good morning and welcome to L.C.N Company, where the unexpected is planned. Please tell us the purpose of your call!"

"Rufus Scrimgeour," Kingsley said clearly.

A few seconds later, Scrimgeour's sharp voice scolded him. "Schaklebolt! Where are you? You were supposed to be back an hour ago!"

Kingsley winced and moved the phone slightly away from his ear. "I apologize, sir. However, the situation may not be a simple formality. It may be more serious than we thought."

Scrimgeour remained silent for a moment and then asked curtly, "How serious?"

"Considering where the victim's body was found and its condition, we may need more time to rule out magical involvement. I believe I should stay longer to investigate," Kingsley explained.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat and asked, "Shall I deploy your team?"

"No need, sir. However, I would appreciate it if you could contact St. Mungo's and ask them to send someone to examine the body?" Kingsley requested.

"Consider it done. What else?" Scrimgeour asked.

"That would be all for now. I spotted a small hotel on the outskirts of town. The Muggle I'm partnering with has checked in, and I'll do the same. I'll get a room and set it up as our headquarters for the investigation and connect its fireplace to the Floo Network," Kingsley said.

"Fine. I'll put the Department of Magical Transportation on it," Scrimgeour said.

"Then, that would be all. I'll contact you again shortly," Kingsley said before ending the call and unlocking the door when he heard footsteps approaching.

Patil opened the door and peered inside. "Sorry to interrupt, but the CPS just arrived. It's time we brief everyone else," he said.

Kingsley nodded. "After you," he said, following Patil out of the office.

Kingsley followed Patil into a small, crowded briefing room filled with uniformed police officers. Patil promptly pinned a picture of the victim on the board and cleared his throat before speaking. "Good morning. I am Ravi Patil, an inspector from Merseyside Police, and this is Chief Inspector Kingsley Schaklebolt from Scotland Yard. We have been assigned to investigate this case."

Kingsley's gaze swept across the room, taking note of the pained expressions on everyone's faces. He then looked back at Patil and gave him a nod of encouragement. Patil reciprocated before addressing the officers. "We understand that this crime hits close to home, but we ask that you trust our experience and resources. Together, we will apprehend the culprit and bring them to justice before the next Premier League game. Although the motives for the murder are unknown to us, we suspect the crime to be sexually motivated or involve organ trafficking."

Patil then outlined the initial investigative steps. "I want you to start questioning all the residents near the roads leading to the river and forests, train station, and bus stops. Get a list of all the lurkers and hobos in the area before 6:00 pm. Check for recent releases from prison within a two-hundred-mile radius, as well as car thefts and robberies. I want to know about every strange occurrence, every suspicious arrival. Mr. Schaklebolt, do you have anything to add?"

Kingsley nodded in affirmation. "I do. I want a list of cults, gurus, and anyone you consider to be a weirdo. Ask the local bartenders if they've seen any strange people hanging around, ordering something they don't have, sounding foreign, or if they've seen any curious clothing or heard funny names."

Detective Patil nodded in agreement before chiming in. "Also, ask the local prostitutes if they had any suspicious customers this month. Let's leave no stone unturned!" he declared, clapping his hands.


Notes:

- In my mind, I picture the Dragonologists headquarters like Storm End's in house of the dragon, surrounded by a vast square resembling Saint Peter's Square where the dragon's fountain replaces the obelisk. I think it's better to say it like this in the notes, so you can immediately visualize the locations, rather than writing an unclear description. Although, I'm trying to see if I can add pictures to the chapters...I can draw what I consider to be the most important scene of the chapter and add it to the text like the illustrated book. If not open a Twitter/Reddit account.

- Thank you for reading! Please review and follow!